these were they days you were strong.
you tied cigarettes from the pear tree in the backyard
you lit them so the grasshoppers
saw a hundred tiny sunsets
and as the ashes came down to the grass
you said these were only growing pains.
your hands are bigger than you are now
listening to old country music
you hold planets in your palms, rolling them around
making them smooth
I know they hurt but you don’t complain about it
the last time I came home you made cornbread
you poured me a glass of milk and
told me I was gettin’ so strong.